AN: Enjoy!

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Laura Schiller:

Two words: Danny lives.

(Thank you for all the suggestions, I think I combined one or two and then added my own little spin on it! I hope you like it.)

Where he is, it's always dark.

The sky never blossoms with color, never shows signs of a coming sunrise. The lights that line every building never turn off, never even dim. There are no stars in the dark, dark sky.

He hates it.

He wants to be back home. Back with Clara. Back into a world where light comes and goes, where he can continue on with normal, everyday things.

But he had to send the boy home instead of himself. He's never forgiven himself for shooting him, and he'd never forgive himself if he didn't give the boy the second chance instead of himself.

He didn't even know his name.

And now, he's here. Trapped in what seems to be a more peaceful version of the Nethersphere, without the odd offices and iPads and whatnot. Sure, he's allowed to wander and do what he likes and really wouldn't be constricted at all if it weren't for the fact that he can't go home.

Some days, he's not quite sure if he's in heaven or hell.

He's seen so many familiar faces, so many shadows of people he's met over the years. He never realized how many people he's lost until now, and it makes his stomach fold into knots. Most of their deaths he's gotten over, let them go. Seeing them again is unsettling, to say the least. But there's one thing, for sure, that hurts so, so much worse that.

He misses Clara. He misses her so much more then anything else, and he wants nothing more then to just see her again. Hear her sweet, sweet voice. Caress her cheek and press his lips to hers. Hold her to him and never, ever let her go.

He's never loved anyone the way he loves her. And the fact that he can never be with her and have a future with her gives him so much pain.

:-:-:-:-:

There's a little garden in the midst of wherever he is, and he finds himself spending most of his time there. It's rather lovely, he has admit, and he can almost smile as he walks by the consistently blooming flowers and under the large willow tree that shades a small bench. Sometimes, he'll sit there for hours without realizing it. Maybe it's because there's no natural light that comes and goes.

One day (or night, he can't tell), he reaches the bench and finds it occupied for the first time. He never sees anyone in the garden, so he's rather surprised to see a woman with a small novel in one hand. Her hair is rather large, bushy with piles of curls on curls, and she has a sweet, yet rather mischievous smile. As he begins to walk closer, her gaze moves up to him.

"Rather dull." She says, closing the book. "How long've you been here?" Her question is incredibly blunt, and he's about to question who she is to ask that when he realizes he doesn't truly know the answer.

"I'm...not sure." He murmurs, moving to sit on the opposite side of the bench. "A while, I guess."

"A while? So've I." Her smile fades slightly, as if she's recalling some painful memory, and then her entire face goes wistful. "I was in love. Were you in love?"

He has no idea who this woman is. But he hasn't really talked to anyone about his past life, as he presumes he would call it. Maybe it'll hurt a little less if he confides in someone. Maybe this woman's actually a gift, from some fate somewhere.

"Yeah, actually. I was." He looks down towards his hands and tries to ignore the hot pain that runs up his chest. "Deeply, madly in love." Now he sounds like some poetic, lovesick freak. Magnificent.

But she doesn't seem to mind. Her smile grows again, and she leans closer toward him.

"Tell me about her." He must look unsure, because she takes his hand and holds it in hers. Her hands are remarkably cold, but so is nearly everything here. "Hearing about love, any love, seems to be what keeps me going here." Her eyes move up, looking into the endless indigo sky.

"She's beautiful." It's the first thing he can think of, and it completely opens the floodgates. "She's a teacher that works at the school I started at only a few months back. She's really smart, and she has a quirky sense of humor. She lied to me, sometimes." He pauses before continuing, swallowing the lump that's suddenly set itself deep in his throat. "She travels with this...man, and he takes her to these amazing places, and she didn't tell me until I caught her. I shouldn't still love her." His breath is ragged. "But I love her, so, so much. I don't think I truly knew what it felt like to be in love before I met her." He's crying now, and he hates crying, but the tears just keep falling. Sometimes, emotions are uncontrollable, especially here.

The woman he's been talking to is quiet now, hasn't spoken a word during his entire spiel. She looks almost as though she's drifted to another world, and if he isn't mistaken, her eyes seem to be watering as well.

"I used to travel with a man. I fell in love with him." She looks right at him, almost as though she's looking right through him. "I bet you would give anything to be back with her." He nods, running his palm across his cheek.

He wants it more then anything in the world.

She pulls something out of her pocket then, something small, square, and electric looking. Beginning to fiddle with it, her curls begin falling in her face. "What's her name, Danny?"

He doesn't even question her knowing his name, doesn't begin to wonder about the question she's asked. And even though he knows it's going to sting, he answers.

"Clara. Clara Oswald." He sees her pause, hears the slight intake of breath, and his heart rate quickens. "What? Did you know her?" She doesn't answer, just continues to push tiny buttons and adjust minuscule switches. Then she's right next to him, strapping it to his wrist.

"This is a vortex manipulator." She says, sounding almost breathless. "You may have just enough time energy from your life before this that it'll be able to track your previous location, and it should be able to take you back."

Take him back? Wait, she can't possibly mean-

"Home?" His voice is barely there, and he can hardly breathe, he can hardly think-

He's got a second chance. A legitimate second chance at going home, going back to normal life.

Back to Clara.

But before he can completely break into a smile, confusion clouds his happy (happy!) thoughts.

"Why me?" To that she smiles an almost saddening smile.

"You make her happy, Danny Pink." She says, enclosing his wrist with both of her hands. "And when she's happy, so is he."

"I don't even know your name!" Her smile grows, and a single tear slips down her cheek.

"You can call me Melody." And then she clicks one final switch, and then he's gone, questions still hanging on the tip of his tongue.

:-:-:-:-:

It takes a second for him to figure out where he is. It's light, which completely disorients him, and then he has a sudden, desperate urge to kiss the ground beneath him.

He's home. He's back on earth, back in his world.

He can hardly breathe, and then the thought explodes through his mind.

He needs to find Clara.

He pulls out his phone, and with shaking fingers, punches in a number. It rings twice, and then the other line's picked up.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hello." He responds, and he feels his palms growing sweaty, more by the minute. "My name is Danny Pink, and I don't know where I am."

:-:-:-:-:

The chair is cold, hard beneath him. He clutches the armrests and exhales, closing his eyes. It's starting to catch up with him, the fact that he was dead, dead and gone only an hour before. And now he's in a police station in the midst of London, very much alive.

He's scared, and he's not sure why. The police, of course, were rather skeptical, and it was only when the DNA analysis came back only minutes ago that they finally began to believe him.

So why is he worried?

Maybe, because the last time he walked the earth was when he was a Cyberman. The very thought terrifies him.

He's thinking about that very thing when he hears her, and his heart jumps to his throat.

"Danny!"

Clara.

He stands, moves towards the hallways, and he's shaking, completely.

"Danny!" Her voice sounds so desperate, so hoarse, and he feels an immense, incredible longing that seems to be tearing through his chest.

Then he turns the corner, and then-

She's there.

She's really there.

She looks paler then he remembers, and her cheekbones are more prominent through her face. He hardly has time to process those facts before she flies towards him and throws herself onto him, holding him tightly. His arms wrap around her tiny frame and she's sobbing, shaking against him.

"My god, Danny." Her voice is completely muffled against his shoulder, and it quakes almost as much as her body is. He can feel her frantic heartbeat, erratic against his chest, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

She leans back and cups his face in both of her hands, her thumbs gently running up and down from his jawline. He's got a chance to look at her properly now, and he sees she is so much thinner, so much gaunter then before he had died. By the looks of things, she hasn't been eating.

What would have happened if he had stayed dead?

Immediately, he brushes the thought from his mind. Whatever could have happened, whatever disaster might have occurred, it won't, now.

"You were dead." Her voice's become soft, even though he can still feel the tremors through her fingers. "You were dead and gone and now you're here." She hiccoughs, her eyebrows furrowing. "How can you be here?"

"I-I dont know." His voice stutters, and he moves his hand, slowly, to rest on Clara's cheek. He never thought he'd feel her skin under him again. He never thought he'd talk to her, cry with her, laugh with her.

He can't say how he feels is completely happiness, but elation is completely playing a part in his emotions.

"I don't know, Clara. I can't figure out quite how-"

"Shut up." He silences and she drops her hands down to hang lazily around his shoulders, like they would do whenever they had had a private moment around the school. "It's not important, Danny. Honestly, I really could care less-" Her face, despite the tears still openly pouring down her cheek, breaks into a smile. "-because you're here." He's nearly shaking, now, with all of the emotion building up inside him like water in a dam. He's really, truly back, by some miracle or fate.

He wastes no time in pressing his lips to hers, and pulls her to him, feeling every bit of her body against his. She tightens her grip around his shoulders and kisses him back just equally.

It's the best, most beautiful kiss Danny's ever experienced.

Then he pulls back, and can't even process the wetness that has begun falling down his face and creating tiny tracks on his cheeks.

"I never thought I'd be able to do that again." His words sound choked, and she almost laughs, brushing a tear away with her thumb.

"Me too." He has to smile at that. "I never thought I'd be able to say 'I love you' again, either."

"I love you, so much, Clara Oswald." He enunciates every sound, and means each one with his entire, beating heart. She pulls herself as close as she can be to him, and has to tilt her chin to look directly into his eyes.

"I love you, too."

AN: Well, there you are! I hope you enjoyed, this one made me fairly emotional writing which doesn't happen that often. I hope you all caught my little reference to a certain lover of the Doctor's in there somewhere ;).

Also, the name for the Doctor Who Christmas episode is 'Last Christmas' and I'm rather terrified for it.

Speaking of Christmas, if any of you have any Christmas related prompts, I would love to write some Danny/Clara Christmas fluff or something! Let me know in the reviews or PM me.

Reviews are absolutely lovely,

xoxo,

-J